


Two of a Kind

by Pantherlily



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), UnDeadwood (Web Series)
Genre: Clayson, Language, M/M, Mentions of violence but not graphically depicted, Oblivious Rev, Pining and in denial Clayton, Thank you Discord family for all the prompts and encouragement, UnDeadwood, UnDeadwood Mini-series (Critical Role)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-08 08:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21232916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantherlily/pseuds/Pantherlily
Summary: Some folks in Deadwood aren't taking kindly to the new Reverend in town and have been leaving nasty notes and giving him glares. Well, Clayton might have a thing or two to say about that...One of the many prompts thrown around in the Undeadwood Discord Server that I decided to pick up and run with.





	1. Chapter 1

Clayton Sharpe never much cared for the church before and honestly, he didn’t really now either. However, he was becoming…fond of the preacher, he supposed. Though he would never admit such a thing. He was a loner and had a reputation to keep, after all. It didn’t stop him from going to the church every Sunday. Not when the sermon was going on, but afterward. He heard what people said about Mason and how they looked at him. Couldn’t very well let these idiots try and bully a good man like that out of town that was in need of someone like him. Not of course, that he needed Matthew…that is, Reverend Mason around either. Nope, it definitely wasn’t that at all.

When Sharpe had found out people were leaving threatening notes in the offering plate, he could feel the blood in his veins boil. His jaw set tight, a vein pulsing in his neck before he managed to calm down. He didn’t ponder on it too long. He was more of a man of action then one to dwell on his own thoughts and feelings anyway. Sneaking into the church wasn’t difficult, since the front door was no longer the only way after the fire. The place was still in disarray, there hadn’t been much time to rebuild it yet. Finding the plate at the altar wasn’t difficult, since it was one of the few things still intact in the charred mess around him.

Folded pieces of papers were snatched out of the plate and stuffed into Clayton’s pockets. He would take the time to read them later. The hit list that made itself. He wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it and what the good Reverend didn’t know wouldn’t hurt none either. He went back to his room at the hotel, paying for a bottle, before heading upstairs. The chair creaked as he leaned back in it, the bottle whiskey already open and drank from as he pulled the first note out from his pocket. His eyes narrowed and he reflexively crumpled up the paper and angrily threw it to the floor. Those sonsuvabitches were going to pay. Not all of them were signed but there were certainly those foolish enough to do so. Tomorrow night he was gonna set some folks straight, permanently.


	2. Chapter 2

When he came back from doing some reconnaissance on his ready to go hit list, Clayton noticed a couple of men hassling the Preacher across the street from where he was. He stopped to watch, his jaw set tight once more. He couldn’t hear the words being said but he saw the Reverend tense up and a hard look came to the man’s eyes. It didn't’t look right to him. Why, Mason was one of the most irritatingly happy and optimistic folks he knew.

The gunslinger knew that look. That stance. It was enough to make him take pause and not intervene, despite the strong urge to do so. He waited for the strangers to be gone, his angry gaze watching to see where the disappeared to before finally moving across the street. He wanted to ask the Reverend if he was all right but didn’t. “The fuck was that about?”

Mason must have been following the line of sight of those men too because it didn’t seem like he was heard at first. Or maybe the Reverend was trying to come up with an answer first. It was hard to tell, even with a keen gaze like his. “Nothing. Just a mistaken identity is all. Something I can do for you Mr. Sharpe?”

A lie. Clearly there was more to Matthew Mason than what first met the eye. The man certainly wasn’t the bumbling buffoon that first came across. What was the Reverend hiding? He supposed everyone was hiding something, it just came as a surprise that Mason did too. Perhaps those two men had just made the top of his list. This was verbal and confrontational. _Personal_. That much had been clear to him. “Nuthin.” He could lie too. The gunslinger tipped his hat and made his way into the Gem Saloon, walked to the bar and ordered a drink.

Whatever they had against Mason, it wasn’t good. Especially if they ended up drunk. Drunks had a tendency to be even more stupid than they already were. If he caught them again, they wouldn’t be so lucky because he wouldn’t just idly stand by even if the Reverend could clearly take care of himself. An extra set of eyes to watch someone else’s back never hurt no one.

If there was one thing, he was good at, it was being vigilant. Speaking of, some folks on his hit list just walked out of the door of the saloon. Clayton downed his shot of whiskey before stepping back outside. Now was as good as any to let of some steam. He began to follow his mark home.


End file.
